Candid Apologies
by Spirit of Gray
Summary: When Madame Vastra learns that the Doctor is in London, the Paternoster Gang just can't help but think that something isn't right. Trigger Warnings for implied self-harm the last chapter. Set after TATM: The Angels Take Manhattan, and before the Snowmen. Sequel complete: Far Beyond the Limit. Angst and attempted Hurt/Comfort.
1. Vastra's Encounter

"He'd kill you all right. No sweat. But for the wrong reasons. Amateur's reasons. Of course, you'll be just as dead." ― Laurell K. Hamilton, The Laughing Corpse

* * *

As her suspect officially turned from the most likely perpetrator to confirmed culprit, Vastra hissed. Of course the bastard would run the moment he saw the police near his place. This would be quite problematic for her, as it always was. She could give chase, but she was a woman in mourning clothes and with a veil. She not only would be obvious, but rumors would start and the questions would follow and her enemies would have yet another lead on her location.

On a normal occasion, she would tell Jenny to run them into the less visible alleyways, or tell Strax to set up a trap of some sort at the most likely place he would run to, but Jenny was dealing with a prisoner at the manor and Strax was at Glasgow, coming back the next day.

She decided to keep watching his running while walking at a slightly hurried pace, trying to guess where he would go next.

The youth had commited patricide the day prior, proving his idiocy. His father was stabbed in broad daylight, and he wore his own distinctly torn coat to the crime. It had been found in the river later, the blood not quite washed off, and the knife used in its interior pocket. Everyone knew the father and his son had problems, especially after the victim disowned his son for gambling. The youth had many debts, and everyone knew that he had the guts to do it. The Yard had given this case to her as a joke of sorts, and were probably taking bets on how long it would take her to catch the guy.

Vastra though, no matter what social disadvantages she was afflicted with, had the advantage. Human nature, as malleable as it seemed to be with criminals, would force him to grieve the death of his father. Grief was a powerful paralytic, as shown by her culprit's stopping (cleverly in the middle of a crowd) to take a deep and shuddered-looking breath. She quickly reconsidered her initial view on his intelligence. Perhaps he wasn't learned, but he had a real spark of intelligence. It was a real waste of potential skill.

Her new analysis was confirmed when she saw him dash off into the crowd, and then into some alley she couldn't monitor or get to in a timely manner from her position.

That's when she decided to ignore all of humanity's stupid rules and run after him. He only made it less than a block before he realized that Vastra was indeed following him, and Vastra, with her warrior training, was rapidly catching up as well. Then suddenly, he turned.

_Fatal mistake_, she thought with triumph.

However, when she turned to the alley, she couldn't see him. She carefully looked around, and saw nothing out of the ordinary with the alley, or any way he could have passed through the alley in the first place.

Then she hissed under her breath.

He hadn't went into the alley at all.

He just turned to make it look like he had, while he, in reality, continued off through the alley and probably to the main road.

Vastra, feeling properly fooled, contemplated if this was one of the reasons the Yard gave her this case; the suspect was too damn slippery for them to get themselves.

She turned around and looked to see any discreet vantage points. She could only see the tops of buildings, however.

Dismayed, she slunk her way through the alley and tried to think of the most likely place he would go. He had no more friends, because they all knew of his evil greed, and his family had already disowned him.

Madame Vastra then nearly hit her head for her slowness.

He was going to collect his father's money. Why had that taken so long for her to realize?

The money was somewhere at the docks, she remembered from her earlier investigation.

So she made her way as quickly as she could to the closest docks there were to her and looked around.

While stalking the area, she noticed a semi-familiar scent. Her perpetrator's scent.

So she came closer to him silently. He was waiting in the alley, for the workers to leave their shifts. Then, he was probably going to take all of his father's money and leave.

She didn't have much time. The sun was low in the sky. First, she took his scent so he would not escape her again. Then, she slowly came from behind him and-

He ran. He noticed her and ran on instinct.

He was faster this time too. What had caused the sudden speed-up she didn't know (perhaps the lack of moving apes for his navigation), but she didn't like it. He was running only a tad slower than her, and that would cause quite a problem, because she had run the whole way to the dock, while he had been resting.

He probably knew the area better too. He had most likely played in these alleys in his childhood, and he twisted through them as if that wer the case.

It was quite a chase. Everything that his hands came close enough to touch was thrown to the ground behind him, in his effort to stop her, but it was becoming increasingly futile.

She was just within a few yards of him when a tall, skinny, odd-smelling body slammed into her, and they were both thrown back.

Her murderer turned again, and she lost sight of him. So she concentrated on the smells instead.

He had just went west, but the scent carried by the wind that she was smelling smelt of sweat, so he was becoming tired.

However, she found it hard to concentrate on his scent when the person who she hit (or did the person hit her?) didn't smell of a human.

She didn't mean just the general stink that they secreted by sweating, but the pheromones that they also produced.

The person that hit her obviously wasn't human, but none of the animals in the area were large enough to be that tall.

It was also muttering profuse apologies at such a rapid pace she could hardly understand.

"OhmygodIamsosososorry! WasthatasuspectyouwerechasingIcan'tbelieveIjusthityouIamsososorry! Ishouldhavebee-"

"Doctor? Is that you?"

She knew that was a redundant question, merely a formality, as she knew it could only be him, but as she took a better look at him, she reconsidered. His face, though not the first one she had met, was the same as the one from the battle they had fought for young Melody, but he wasn't wearing the clothing of his signature look. He was, surprisingly, wearing clothing that was suitably appropriate to the time period.

The most disturbing thing was the fact that his beloved bow tie was gone. In its place was a dull, brown, ordinary tie.

"Yes, sorry, I wasn't looking where I was going." he said, nodding his head, before jumping up and offering her a hand.

"It happens to everyone, does it not?" she mused while she took his hand.

"I suppose you're right, Madame," he agreed, taking a small step back.

"Madame?" she asked in confusion as she pulled herself up. "I'm not your superior."

He merely shrugged, and shoved his hands into his pockets.

"I fear I just impeded on something," he said guiltily, looking down and chewing his lip. "I apologize."

"Your apology is accepted," she established. She gave him a small smile, while internally trying to understand his exceptionally odd behavior.

Before she had finished speaking though, he began to stalk away.

She was about to call out to him, but stopped when she heard him mutter, "Stupid, stupid. I _knew _something like this would happen."

Then he was out of proper earshot, and she decided that she had more urgent matters to attend to (namely, catching the killer), and would call him when she arrived home.


	2. Jenny's Conversation

"One has to pay dearly for immortality; one has to die several times while on is still alive."

\- Friedrich Nietzsche

* * *

Jenny didn't think much of Vastra's encounter with the Doctor, except for the general suspicion that anything and everything could explode at any minute, like they always seemed to when the Doctor decided to visit. For her, she was at a relative ease until she hit the market.

She had been purchasing groceries from a reliable man who had been displaced by an angel years prior (or perhaps to come), who ran a nice, if not entirely honest business. When she was leaving, she heard a voice from the back of the store.

_"Didja hear? The Madman was seen yesterday."_

Jenny, not knowing that there was a madman in the area, listened intensely to the conversation that was not hers (which was not eavesdropping, but more convert-intelligence gathering).

Jenny, not knowing there was someone considered mad in the area, and wondering if, perhaps, that could be the reason the Doctor was there, listened carefully to the conversation. It wasn't eavesdropping, she justified. It was convert intelligence gathering.

She wandered closer to the people speaking, two young men speaking while they cleaned out a vegetable booth.

"Where?" the younger one with startling blond hair asked.

"Down near the docks. Can you imagine what he was doin' there?" the older one replied, who was unremarkable in any way.

Jenny quickly made the connection. The madman was of interest to the Doctor. She started quickly wondering if he was there to keep the madman from hurting someone else or from somehow being hurt.

"He's mad. 'E probably wasn't doin' anything but be there, eh?" Blond shrugged, sweeping away something that looked like old cloth.

"If the Peelers was any good, they'd arrest him," Normal accused. Jenny felt a pang of annoyance at his ignorant words. A case they had before had her go into an asylum. The way the mad were treated was worse than most farm animals.

"I thought the Peelers only sent people to prison," expressed Blond, who leaned on his broom.  
"I'm sure he does something illegal," Normal said, rolling his eyes.

"And why do you- hey, who are you?" Blond asked suddenly, pointing at Jenny. Jenny felt a bit guilty. Eavesdropping, no matter how required it was for her lifestyle, was still morally wrong.

"A curious person," Jenny evaded.

"Well whatcha hear that's so interesting?" Normal demanded.

"Enough to be interested. Care to tell me any more?" Jenny tried to persuade.

""Why the 'ell would we tell you?" Normal scorned, crossing his arms.

Jenny took a coin out of her pocket and flipped it in the air.

"I wouldn't know," she stated. "Kindness?"

Blond snatched the coin and pocketed it. "I'm John and that's Chris. What do you want to know?"

Jenny looked pointedly at them, "Any information you have, of course, on this madman."

"The Madman," Chris said, "Is a man that's been seen around this area for a while. He doesn't talk to anybody, and when someone gets close, he backs away. He only appears during the later hours, and always in the back alleys."

"Anything else?" Jenny said impatiently.

"Nothing believable," John snorted. Jenny rolled her eyes. It was an alien. Great, she thought sarcastically. That was exactly what they needed to be dealing with.

"Tell me anyway," Jenny demanded. "I paid you for _any_ information you might have."

"My grandfather's going senile," John said, "But he was an ambassador when Austria-Hungary was formed. He keeps saying that he met this recluse called John Smith. An obvious alias. It can't be the same person, 'cause the madman we're talking about looks young."

Her suspicions were quickly halted. She had been taught by Strax that all humans and humanoids had about the same lifespan until genetic engineering entered the picture. Then she felt like something had pricked her. Vastra met the Doctor by the docks the night previous.

"And he was seen yesterday, where?" she asked, just to confirm.  
"At the docks. That's all we know," Chris claimed, going back to cleaning out the vegetable stall.

Jenny nodded to them and muttered a thanks, and scrambled off back to 13 Paternoster Row, disturbed.

Vastra had claimed that the Doctor seemed off, but how long had he _been_ in London?

* * *

When she arrived home, Strax noticed her distress immediately.

"Jenny," he addressed in his ever formal military fashion, "What has happened."

Jenny waved him off, hoping he would drop it until she could sort it out with Vastra. She didn't need to explain why to him when she _needed_ to speak with her wife.

"Does it require the obliteration of a puny human for the glory of the Sontaran empire?" Strax asked with blood-lust.

"No Strax, but I need to bring this to the Madame," she glared. "And no one needs to be obliterated."

Strax stomped off sulkily, hopefully to do his chores, but more likely he was going to destroy something.

Jenny decided to leave him to his own devices. She was confident (and also great at lying to herself) that he wouldn't cause too much damage.

So she went to the kitchen and put away the groceries that she bought (she forgot a few- but her information (hopefully) made up for it).

Then she walked to her wife's study, trying to look more calm than she felt.

Of course, Vastra had to see through it immediately.

"Jenny, has something happened to you?" Vastra asked, concern leaking into her voice. She promptly stood up and looked over her wife.

"Am I that transparent?" Jenny complained with a sigh.

"I would tell you how Strax and I always know, but then you'd learn to hide it effectively," Vastra smiled.

"I suppose," Jenny flirted, moving closer.

"Well, that would be good though. What if we're on a mission and the suspect notices," Vastra proposed.

"Hasn't been a problem yet," Jenny remarked shamelessly. She was right in front of Vastra's desk, leaning in slightly.

"I think you just like having me fuss over you," Vastra said, also leaning in closer.

"I think I do," Jenny said just before she leaned in for a kiss, "But something did happen."

Vastra walked over to Jenny and grabbed her hand. "And what would that be?"

I overheard a conversation in the market," Jenny announced, "Two teenagers cleaning out an area."

"What did the say that disturbed you so much?"

"A madman, who's been seen before, was seen near the docks yesterday."

"That's where I was. I presume you're talking about Harris Baker?"

"Harris Baker? Who's he?" Jenny puzzled.

"The man who committed patricide, who I have just given to Scotland Yard," Vastra boasted.

"That's great," Jenny agreed, "But there's more."

Madame Vastra looked at her and determined that she was serious, and sat them down on the wicker chairs. "There always is."

"He doesn't speak to anyone, or contact anyone," Jenny said in a monologue, "And he's been seen as early, looking the same age, since Austria-Hungary formed."

"Is that country?" Vastra asked.

"Yes it is, and it's a bit old for someone to be the same age as they were when it was founded," Jenny said.

"The Doctor? Do you think they were speaking of him?" Vastra asked, her eyes widening.

"Yes," Jenny convicted easily.

"I see why you're so worried," Vastra said, "I fear that I am going to worry you more though. I've been trying to contact him."

"Hasn't it worked? He promised that he would be in contact with us," Jenny fretted.

"And he is. Just not the him I'm looking for. The Doctor I keep getting is one before Demons Run. Or, once I got Professor Song," Vastra vocalized.

"Can we track him?" Jenny asked, "If he's still here in London."

"We can scan for artron energy, but if he's moved, I fear it will be a 'wild-goose-hunt', as you humans are fond of saying," Vastra frowned. Jenny didn't care to correct her slightly off worded metaphor, because the Doctor just didn't stay in one place for so long. It would be pathetic to worry about a mouse when plague rats were eating your food supply.

"When shall we scan for it, then?" Jenny asked leaning forward in her seat.

"We'll go tomorrow morning. I must discuss the details of this case for Detective Inspector Abberline in an hour," Vastra sighed.

"Lo and behold," Jenny said sarcastically, "The epic battle of Madame Vastra of the Silurians against the horrors of bureaucracy continues."

Vastra snorted, while Jenny arose and pecked her wife once more before leaving.

She couldn't help getting a distinct feeling of dread while she prepared for the Inspector's visit.


	3. River Song's Advice

"Clouds suit my mood just fine." ― Marie Lu, Champion

* * *

The Paternoster gang arose early the next morning, alert and frantically scanning for artron energy. It was shaping up to be a dead end pretty quickly.

"Just how many anachronisms can one ape city have?" Vastra complained, only to earn a glare from her wife as they were led in a circle around the city.

"Well, the Doctor does like it here. Perhaps this is why," Jenny proposed, holding the scanner that led them around a corner.

"I believe that the Doctor likes this hostile planet of 'London' because it has weak defensive and poor offensive opportunities," Strax declared with confidence, ignoring the fact that the others had been ignoring him.

Vastra sighed and rolled her eyes, glancing at the scanner in Jenny's hands. "The Doctor is a pacifist- or at least he tries to be. I doubt he likes London because it'd be easy to conquer."

"Or perhaps that's exactly why; so he can play hero," Jenny argued playfully. Vastra rolled her eyes. The Doctor, they knew, for all of his perceived excellence and arrogance, was truly oblivious to most of the good he did.

Strax muttered his protests, but both Jenny and Vastra ignored him. Annoyed, Strax snatched the scanner from Jenny.

"Oi!" Jenny complained, while they all stopped walking.

"Strax," Vastra scolded, "What have we told you about snatching things?"

Strax looked at her and recoiled. "Not to."

"Give the scanner back to Miss Jenny," Vastra commanded. It was still dark, but they could see the sun rising in the horizon. When Strax continued messing with the scanner, Vastra stepped closer to him.

"Strax," she warned. "We're running out of time." Strax then pressed one more button before returning it to Jenny.

Jenny was utterly confused.

"Is this a map?" she asked, shifting on her feet. "Yes sir," Strax admitted proudly. "I knew that your puny human mind wouldn't be able to find the map, so I took the liberty of going to the map for you."

Jenny examined the map, and then she started to touch the screen. "It changed angles," she observed.

Vastra shrugged, and peered over Jenny's shoulder.

"So it does. Strax," she addressed, "Thank you. However, next time, inform us of what you are doing."

Strax nodded (the best nod a Sontaran could manage) and also looked at the scanner. While peering over the scanner, Vastra noticed something odd about the map.

"That line, the yellow one," she specified, "Is that where the artron energy leads?"

"Yes, Madame," Strax affirmed. "And when it turns darker- into red, what does that mean?" Vastra puzzled. Around a certain park near them, there were multiple red lines and orange lines branching off from them.

"At a higher concentration of artron energy, the line turns into a shade that is of a lower light frequency," he said, while Jenny started walking towards the direction of the park.

"And that blank place in the middle?" Jenny asked, while both Vastra and Strax looked at her as if she had said something silly at an opportune time.

"There is no blank place on the scanner," Vastra informed her slowly. Jenny looked at the scanner, stopping once again, and squinted. "Yes, there is," she stated.

"Strax," Vastra said with a worried tone, "Can you look at her eyes?"

"There's nothing wrong with my eyes!" Jenny argued.

"We haven't the time for that now, Madame," Strax claimed. "It's a common slight in the human species. They are unable to perceive many colors. We should move to tactical positions at the park."

"Agreed," Jenny muttered with annoyance. Vastra looked at her once more before moving along with them.

It took only a short time for them to arrive at the park. (Why was it so close to 13 Paternoster Row? Was the Doctor expecting them?)

Then they were at a stand-still.

"There's nothing here," Vastra fretted, unsure of what to make of the situation.

Jenny merely started fiddling with the scanner. Strax them huffed at her, "What are you doing, boy?"

"I am a girl, Strax," Jenny frowned. "Vastra," she said, turning to her lover, "When I turn the angle, it get's red in the sky."

"What? The sky?" Vastra chuckled in disbelief. "Look for yourself," Jenny shrugged.

While Jenny handed Vastra the scanner, a voice came from behind them. "It should be in the sky."

Spinning around, the Paternoster Gang saw Professor Song leaning against a tree.

"There's a ladder in this tree, hidden by a perception filter. For practicality's sake, invisable," she clarified. "If you go up, you should be able to find the TARDIS."

Vastra handed the scanner to Jenny and approached Professor Song, nodding. "Thank you, Professor. I assume you just came from him?"

"It's River," she said, "But whether I came from him is a complicated question. If you meant if I just spoke with him, then yes."

"Of course that's what I meant," Vastra assured, "I doubt you would willingly run his errands."

River smiled knowingly. "Never," she promised, "Unless I had a good incentive."

Vastra laughed a bit, while Strax and Jenny stepped forward.

"I assume you three are planning on seeing him?"

"Naturally," Vastra shrugged. "He seemed off when we ran into each other a few days back."

"Yes, he mentioned that," River said, "I do hope you do not have an injury from that, and have caught your suspect."

"I have not and have," Vastra answered.

River nodded, and stepped forward from her tree.

"I've taken the redirect off of his phone, and he won't be putting it back on," she claimed, smiling flirtatiously.

"That's well. I assume that took some effort on your part," Vastra sympathized. As temporarily being on the TARDIS had proven during the planning of the Battle of Demons run, they were both as stubborn as each other.

"Less than you currently think," River smiled, but it flickered a bit. A micro-expression of displeasure, as if the reason he relented was unpleasant.

"Oh? I assume we'll find out this reason?" Vastra mused. River nodded and smirked, "Spoilers."

"You three best be back now. It's nearly day, and now is not a good time to see him," she sighed, closing her eyes for a moment. "I wish you three the best of luck. Just remember: he won't be like this forever."

"Luck?" Jenny asked, confused, "With what?"

However, before she obtained her answer, River had disappeared in with a flash.

"Well, at least now we know how to contact him," Jenny said, trying to be optimistic.

"Yes, Jenny, at least," Vastra said, holding her wife's arm. "However, I believe the Doctor is worse than we originally believed."


	4. In the Alley

"Apologize!

That's the least you can do to try to make right something you have wronged."

― Sanhita Baruah

* * *

They waited two days before they decided it was a good idea to call him. Vastra, fearing he was still upset about something (for he must have been upset to treat them like that), was hesitant to call him even then. They all knew that he had made rash decisions before, and weren't in a hurry to him to become angry again like he was at Demon's run.

So late in the evening two days later, Jenny had finally pushed her enough to call him.

She reached the Doctor, and the first thing she said was, "When was the last time you've met me?"

She was relieved it when she heard a crisp answer, "I met you near the docks a few days back."

Then there was a pause, "I'm truly sorry that I caused you to lose your suspect. I should have been paying more attention."

"I've already forgiven you for that, Doctor," she sighed. "Why do you keep apologizing?"

There was a pregnant pause, and then the Doctor said, "I've also been inconveniencing you in... other ways."

"You have," Vastra agreed. "I apologize for that as well," he said quietly.

Therein lie the true problem. Why was he so apologetic? Why was he in Victorian London, on all places, when he preferred the twenty-first century to a fault? Why was he here for such a presumably long time?

Vastra could hear his sincerity, but there was something wrong with it. He had once told her "an apology in person is much more than one over mail" when she had tried to gain forgiveness from that families of the tunnelers she slaughtered, so why was he apologizing over the telephone? Was the direct communication better in his eyes, so one could tell sincerity?

No, that was not it. He said "in person". That only meant that he didn't want to meet her. Was it out of guilt from his "inconvenience", or was there something else wrong?

Either scenario gave the conclusion that something in his life was off, so she took a gamble.

"We will accept your apology," she said, "On a single condition."

"And the condition is?" he asked, monotone.

"You meet us in person and apologize," she demanded. She could hear something rustling over the other end, but ignored it. Would he accept? Or would he tell her to bugger off?

"Where shall we meet?" he asked at last.

"That alley near the docks," she replied quickly.

"When?"

"Now."

"I'll be there," he replied, before the line went dead.

Vastra put the telephone down and went out to Jenny and Strax, who were awaiting the news in a nearby hallway.

"He's coming," she said, forgetting that she had not informed them of her plan.

"The Doctor's coming here?" Jenny asked, a slight frown on her face. "And the right him, at that?"

Strax also had questions. "Is he upset? Shall we need weapons?"

Vastra looked at Strax in a scolding fashion and said, "He would never attack us, Strax. You know that."

Jenny, feeling ignored, spoke again, "Is the correct him coming here?"

Vastra smiled at her and said, "No, we're meeting him near the docks, and it is the version we're looking for."

Jenny then looked down at her maid uniform. "Should I change?"

"Go as you are. We must meet him as soon as we can," she decided.

So they headed out to the docks, while the sun was setting, as quickly as they could.

It was a longer route than Vastra remembered, but they had to take the back alleys (Strax was out, and she had a thinner veil on), so it was excusable.

They arrived when the sun was lower on the horizon, as the last tendrils of its light were disappearing from view.

The Doctor was waiting for them, in his Victorian suit (without the bow tie Vastra was hoping for), and looking quite nervous.

The three approached him in a line, they're backs to the porting area. Both parties merely stood and waited for the other to speak first.

The tension (a quiet and uneasy one, as if one of them was carrying a gun, but not to the point where the gun being waved about) was broken when the Doctor took a step to them and stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking at the ground beneath Vastra's feet.

"I'm sorry," he said. Vastra could feel a genuine (foreign) feeling of guilt, shame, and distress (the very thing that sorry meant). "I've been..." he trailed off, trying to find a word.

"We know," Vastra said. She remembered the word he had said earlier: inconvenience, as if he been interfering and causing them trouble on a large scale, instead of just having them track him down in their spare time. She then nudged Jenny, who said, "We forgive you, naturally."

Then Vastra looked at him, and tried to see if there was a physical reason he was avoiding them. He was a bit gaunt, and maybe pale (though she was having trouble properly telling if it was only the setting sun's fault or not).

Other than that, there was no physical reason she could sense, so she asked, "Though I am intrigued, of why you went to such great lengths to avoid us."

For a moment, she could see a flash of fear run through him as a micro expression, which was quickly covered up by a stoic façade.

"It's just a precaution," he said, as if they would understand. Briefly, she felt the urge to leave it, and then realized that he was pulling his psychic abilities, trying to get them to accept such a vague statement without too much of a fuss.

She would not oblige.

"A precaution from what?" she asked.

He glanced toward her. "Something bad is going to happen. I merely want to prevent it."

"By not letting your friends contact you?" Vastra inquired, confused.

"Yes," he said simply, taking a step back from her. Her thoughts automatically processed this as his evasion and unwillingness.

"Then why are you here? Why not go to a period and place where no one would look for you?" Jenny asked, equally confused.

He shifted on his feet, and looked at her. "I can't go anywhere else, or explain why I'm can't contact you. It's complicated."

Then his eyes looked at all of them, and he nodded.

"I hope you're well, but I must be off now," he decreed.

Then he hastily left them and went out of the alley, disappearing.

Then Vastra turned to her henchmen and declared, "I'm following him."

"What?" Jenny asked, turning to her. "Why? I think he's telling the truth."

"He exerted the idea in your mind through his telepathic abilities, trying to manipulate us," Vastra said. "He's not well. I think he'll tell me more when we're alone."

"You two should go back home," she said with conviction, pointing in the general direction.

Jenny bit her lip, even as Strax was already walking back.

"I trust you, but please," she begged, "Don't do anything you'll regret."

Vastra gave her a reassuring smile and pulled her into a kiss.

"I can never promise you that, dear."

And then Vastra was off, following the Doctor's scent and going in the general direction that it led.


	5. In Revelation

Friends are those rare people who ask how we are and then wait to hear the answer.

\- Ed Cunningham

* * *

She found him only a few minutes away, leaning on a wall. He looked horrible, in an aged beyond his years way. The look that graced his eyes were empty.

There was something in his hand but she couldn't tell what it was, exactly.

She decided it didn't matter at the moment, because the moment he spotted her, he shoved in his his pocket and faced her, his eyes becoming animated and his slumped posture straightening out.

"Why are you following me?" he asked sullenly, crossing his arms.

"I have two very important questions, that I don't think I can ask in front of Jenny and Strax, seeing as you won't let them think anything other than what you want them to," she replied curtly, closing in the distance between them.

The Doctor frowned, and stepped forward to her. "I'm not going to answer them. I have legitimate reasons for trying to keep you three away."

"You don't have to answer," she said, wondering just exactly how he was going to avoid them. "That will not prevent me from asking, though."

"It wouldn't," he agreed, slouching in place, his hands shoved in his pockets.

"The first is relating to when you knocked me down," she said, her eyes narrowing from when he froze, the guilt on his expression for a moment. "If you wanted to avoid us, you wouldn't have stepped out of the TARDIS at all. So where did you go?"

She was careful to phrase that in a way that he wouldn't be able to be vague without giving her some sort of an answer. (Somewhere would admit that he had indeed been somewhere, obviously, and nowhere would be such and obvious lie he wouldn't pass it off.)

"I went to a pharmacy," he claimed, his voice calm. She was surprised by the fact that he seemed to be telling the truth to her. That was never something that one expected from him (who was free to admit that he was a liar, even proud of the fact).

She accepted this answer though, and stepped closer to him again.

"How is your physical well-being?"

He took a step back and muttered, "Fine." Then he glanced at his pocket, where he had hidden his earlier object. So Vastra (noticing such signs of distress and deception) took a step forward, while he was forced to continue to back away like a frightened animal. When he was pressed against the wall (cornered, unable to escape), Vastra reached into his pocket.

"Oi!" he protested as she began fishing in his pocket, "Two things! The first is the phrase 'personal space'. The second is what are you doing in my pocket?"

Vastra ignored him and pulled out a handful of things. The first was his sonic screwdriver, which allowed her to be relieved for a second (for if he did not have it, she would be more concerned than ever before), the second some coins.

The third was some hard candies, which she would have chuckled at (it was so like him to have candy with him), had the last object not been so concerning.

It was a knife, common in the time-period. However, the Doctor didn't like weapons; so why did he have a knife?

She took a step back, not giving him back anything (for he might have left if she returned to him his screwdriver), and stared at the knife. Then she looked at him and tried to read his emotions and thoughts. He was glancing down, in shame, and slightly to the side. He didn't want to meet her eyes, and was avoiding even facing her.

So something was important about the knife.

She remembered when he glanced at his pocket (cluing to her that he was lying when he said he was "fine"), and suddenly she felt a wave of pure fear.

Then she held out her hands, offering his objects back. He glanced at her hands, and took them back, only to find her thumb firmly over the knife.

She pulled her hands back to her sides, and dropped the knife. Then she grabbed his arms.

"Madame!" he said, trying to pull his arms back, "Let me go! What are you doing?"

Vastra then pulled up his sleeve. When his arm was revealed, she gasped in horror.

His arm was full of half-healed cuts and scars (but his kind didn't scar permanently, he had claimed).

"What have you done to yourself?" she demanded. He flinched at her sharp tone, and stopped trying to pull his arm back. Then he regained his wit and challenged her.

"I did exactly what it looks like I did."

She regarded him for a second, looking into his eyes with a form of accusation. "Is that what you were about to do?" she asked.

"It's none of your business," he snapped, pulling back on his arm again. Stubbornly, she refused to let go. "So yes, then?"

He said nothing, and she shook her head. Her friend, the man who had saved her from ignorant tunnel workers and herself and society, the man she owed everything to, had turned something onto himself. Whether it was stress or anger or frustration or sorrow, it didn't matter. "This is unacceptable," she stated, "This is by far the stupidest thing I've ever seen you do."

"And isn't that a reason you should let me go?" he challenged. "I'm acting like an idiot, and since I'm not, I'll come to my 'senses' eventually."

She said nothing, feeling some sort of disappointment flood her veins instead of the anger she felt at first. She turned away from him, her hand still firmly holding his arm, and started walking, dragging a stumbling alien with her.

"Where are you taking me?" he protested. "Back to Paternoster Row."

"What? No!" he yelled, pulling back. However, she tightened her grip on his arm and yanked him forward. "You don't have a choice," she said coldly, while she kept the fast pace of her walk.

He stopped struggling then, and sighed. "I suppose I don't. Can I at least roll my sleeve down?"

"I won't fall for that, Doctor," she claimed, while she squeezed his arm a bit tighter.

"Fall for what? It's bad enough that you and River know. I'm not going to show it to everybody that we pass," he sputtered. She sighed and stopped. He had a point. What sort of dignity or self image must he have had to commit such an atrocity to himself, and what would public humiliation do for him?

So she turned and pulled down his sleeve.

"There. Now it's down," she said, the annoyance in her voice not silent.

Then, she started walking again, going faster than she did.

After a while of walking, Vastra asked, "What did you go into the pharmacy for?"

His step faltered, but then regained its regular pace. He did not answer.

"Most human medication is dangerous for you," she remembered.

"Most can make me sick, but few can kill me," he said.

"Aspirin can kill you," Vastra said, "But aspirin isn't on the markets yet."

"I know. Not until 1898."

"That's nine years from now. So what were you looking for?"

"I was just looking," he claimed.

"I don't believe you," Vastra countered. "If you found something that would kill you, would have bought it?"

"There was nothing there!" he said in annoyance.

"So yes then," she decided. "You were planning on committing suicide."

"Suicide," he said, "is the most utmost and candid apology to the ones I've hurt most."

Her grip on him tightened. "You really believe that, don't you? You believe that you deserve to die."

"What I've been doing to you three is proof enough of that," he muttered.

"You said that you 'inconvenienced' us. You think that's reason enough to kill yourself?" she said in disbelief.

He was silent. Then he said, "I know. It's twisted. I'm sorry."

They were silent until they had nearly arrived to 13 Paternoster Row.

Then the Doctor asked, "Are you going to tell them?"

Vastra chuckled nefariously, "Of course."

"Can you not?"

She then stopped at turned to him. "Why would I?"

He looked her in the eye, and shifted on his feet, "I'll do anything you want. I'll be cooperative, for anything."

"What if I told you not to even consider doing things like self-harm or suicide again?" she asked.

He faltered. "I- I can try."

She looked at him, a flash of sympathy breaking through her face. "You'll come into the house with me, but we won't tell them, ever. Unless you break this agreement. Do we have a deal?"

He nodded, and looked down. "I can try."

She released her grip on his arm, and went behind him, gently nudging him forward. "I understand."


End file.
